


Once Ticking, Now Art

by FannishMinded



Series: Late Night Tumblr fics [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, AU 11th Doctor, Fusion, Id Fic, Johnlock - Freeform, Late night fic theater presents, M/M, Molly Hooper replaced Amy Pond, No Beta, Tumblr Fic, no river, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 22:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3267203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FannishMinded/pseuds/FannishMinded
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr fic based on a gif set.<br/>http://fannishminded.tumblr.com/post/22147729821/no-im-not-leaving-him-not-again-i</p><p>The Master became John Watson nearly fifteen years ago.<br/>The Doctor became Sherlock Holmes a year ago.<br/>They finally meet, just like in the show-except Moriarty is playing with much more than just a human pair of sleuths.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Ticking, Now Art

John Watson is the human form of The Master. The Doctor, in his 11th regeneration is contacted with information about this new update by his old companion Mycroft.

A bullet to the shoulder had also destroyed the watch that had held his Time-Lord essence. 

He is in awe, and a bit envious, of how changed the Master has become in fourteen years of life as a human in the 21st century.  
A man wounded mentally and physically, a veteran of the worst war in the universe AND the eternal struggle in the Earth’s Middle East, yet whole in a way he had never been as a Time Lord.

He just wants to be with him, join him, be whole with him- his first friend… and when Molly, sweet, beautiful, strong Molly finds him playing with the watch that had caused no little trouble in the past, she talks with her husband Mike and they offer to keep an eye on him- and let him rest his burdens for a while. 

For a year, Sherlock lives and breathes as a human. He integrates and after all the shine of humanity has worn away, John Watson finally enters his life.

And there is a connection instantly- a bone deep peace, a fire that is lit inside that warms him completely. He feels hints of grief and pain and loss- but when John laughs and bumps his arm, Sherlock forgets all about it.

Sherlock’s heart had clenched when John had shot the cabbie that first night- too many emotions boiling up where he could not remember any emotions being before.

Everything is so beautifully smooth and wonderful from there, excepting a few minor hitches with the Chinese Smugglers.

Things begin to change as the dangerous madman named Moriarty reminded him of something- someone.

It came to a head with the pool.

He had nightmares for nights after the pool, whenever he dared to close his eyes. Blond haired and looming over him with a manic grin, black beard and embroidered costumes, an enemy he couldn’t remember- and despite the faces changing he KNEW they were the same man.

For some reason, the first moments of John, coming into sight is worse than anything else.

“This is a turn-up, isn’t it, Sherlock?”

And something in Sherlock breaks every time he remembers this.

Something in him had expected, the entire time, that his closest, dearest… _only_ true friend… would betray him.

He tosses and turns in fitful and brief sleep- murmering a name he won’t remember or recognize when awake.

In dreams however- he says it, breathes it with such betrayal and loaded feeling. Koschei.

And as quickly, the dream moves on, memory over-riding an elusive fragment of dream to continue on, to see the wires, to see the bomb and how strong and brave John is…

To the heart stopping moment when John jumps onto the madman…

To the moment something in Sherlock melts and reforms.

When something, shattered and so worn and spindled that it is near unrecognizable smooths just a bit.

As John pleads with him to run… And Sherlock can’t.

Sherlock can’t leave him…

Not again. I can’t leave him. Not again.

He always wakes up, then, the idea that he can not run from John this time lingering for just a breath.

Sherlock doesn’t remember the specifics of his dreams.

He knows they’re terrible- and he focuses on John, on the pool, in them.

He also knows that when he wakes from them, he is both exhausted, and trembling- only the sight and sound of John eases the trembling and aching within him.

Over the months following the pool, they both begin to circle each other closer, to touch longer and smile once secret smiles openly and with lessening reserve…

Each day they connect- sometimes Sherlock can swear that John is able to read him almost as well as Sherlock can read John. Never does John grow boring or dull. Never does Sherlock tire of sharing smiles or laughter or adventures.

As Moriarty’s game picks up the pace again, Molly grows worried- Mike and Mycroft visit more, their eyes haunted with things that make no SENSE to him. He is frustrated and nothing about them reads properly.

And then Molly gives him a watch- and it calls to him. It sings to him- even as he almost violently wants to refuse it.

It is bone deep, this desire to smash the watch to pieces. Molly’s words seal the watch’s fate.

‘No. I’m not leaving him. Not again.’

And with that choice- fate turns- and the last of the time lords makes his choice. To be human, after all.

To be with John, until the end.

No matter the cost.

Something inside him seems to shriek when he smashes the watch. 

Mostly though, he feels elated.  
Satisfied.  
He attributes this stray emotion to his change of plans in how they will handle Moriarty.

—-

Moriarty doesn’t stand a chance- and neither does the criminal empire he had ruled. They aren’t Time Lords, whatever Moriarty had meant by that. It hadn’t mattered what Moriarty had been meaning to say after that weird phrase as John had taken the shot that ended the madman as he battled with Sherlock on a terrace.

They are John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

When they retire, decades after they had met in that room in Barts, there are tears and hugs from all their many friends.

Molly and Mike hand Sherlock the smashed watch, now with a fixed case, turned into a beautiful piece of art- with no magic or motion in it. Sherlock is puzzled by the gesture but laughs, John shows it off as a great display piece of an heirloom watch. John hugs the couple and the party continues without a hitch.

The framed art piece means nothing more or less than the moment Sherlock confided in John about Moriarty’s plan- And the unconscious choice to always stand and fight beside his beloved friend instead of run away.


End file.
